Chaos' Heir

Khan knew the short introduction had left out many details. The team members had only described the specializations related to the mission, but their expertise stretched past them.

Marcus had made a name for himself in the software field. Although he didn't invent anything new, his programming skills allowed him to improve multiple established tools, from simple scanners to high-level computing machines. Everyone believed his future would be bright, especially given his young age.

Kirk was even better than Marcus. He was the archetype of the lab rat who understood machines more than people. He could fix, improve, and even directly build most tech-related items, making him a jack-of-all-trades with no real drawback.

Amy was no different. Her cheerful vibe, silk-like blonde hair, porcelain skin, and harmonious figure made her appear like a naïve Princess with no place on the battlefield. However, her profile told a different story.

The young woman had gotten her hands dirty multiple times, joining various missions in potentially dangerous environments and with different teams. Her expertise covered the flora and fauna of many alien planets, and all her former teammates vouched for her good instincts. She had talent, knowledge, and experience, making her a perfect scout.

Celeste was also well-known in her field. The woman had her hands on almost everything related to alien languages. Even the Global Army didn't know how many of them she could speak and read, and her experience had helped fix mistranslations and other issues connected to the field.

As for Randall, he was the closest thing to an Ambassador. His education had been perfect, going through all the official channels and schools to achieve the right qualifications. He had also assisted multiple political envoys and learned from established figures. His social array was immense, too. The difference between Ambassador Abores and him was in the experience and title.

The team looked exceptional, even too exceptional. Except for Celeste, everyone was a bit too young to have achieved so much, but their background explained that point.

Marcus, Kirk, Randall, and Amy came from good families, and Khan had even met descendants from three of them. Specifically, Amy's family had a long history in Ambassador-related fields. Lieutenant Ethan Padridge, the investigator who had joined Khan in Reebfell's Slums, had achieved his position at a similarly young age, making Amy the norm rather than the exception.

The others didn't have such famous backgrounds, but their wealth and social positions provided enough advantages to make their achievements reasonable. They had worked hard enough to be commendable, but their opportunities still came from their families.

Of course, Khan wouldn't belittle his teammates based on their backgrounds. He had met too many capable descendants in the Harbor to underestimate those figures. The fact that their lives had been easier didn't speak for their capabilities. Those opportunities could often create more capable soldiers, and his companions seemed to exemplify that.

Nevertheless, the wealthy and socially established background enhanced Khan's paranoia. Each team member could have access to his enemies, both through their families and fame. As far as Khan knew, he could be surrounded by enemies.

Still, Khan's senses didn't pick up any hostile feelings, allowing him to focus on the task at hand. He had skipped most of the loading part, and Randall took it upon himself to put him up to speed.

"Our young researchers had just finished complaining," Randall announced, rushing to Khan's side and pointing at Marcus and Kirk. "Most of this equipment is under their care."

"I won't take responsibility for any damage suffered during loading," Marcus commented before deciding to add something for Khan. "We'll test everything before the set-off, isn't that right, Kirk?"

"Multiple rounds of tests are mandatory before the set-off," Kirk said, his head lowered on the nearby console.

Marcus cleared his throat and showed Khan and Randall a helpless smile. The network reported Kirk's lack of social skills, and the interaction confirmed the information. Some awkwardness spread in the area, but Khan didn't mind it. He didn't need Kirk to make conversation anyway.

"Is all of this yours?" Khan wondered, inspecting the many boxes lying behind and around the scientists.

"Most of these are toys, sir," Marcus exclaimed, crouching toward one of the boxes. "Orbital scanners, flying scanners, ground scanners. We also have a lot of spare parts for all our equipment."

The chances of something breaking on its own were basically null, but that didn't stop the Global Army from filling the ship with all kinds of situational equipment. The two researchers had yet to check it, and Khan didn't envy their position after estimating how long it would take to catalog everything.

"What else?" Khan asked.

"We put the supplies down there," Randall pitched in, pointing at the back of the cargo area. He then moved forward, his eyes darting down and forward to avoid stepping on any boxes.

Khan followed Randall, but his gaze never moved. He didn't even look like he was paying attention, but his feet never hit the boxes. His casual stroll actually exuded confidence.

Marcus, Celeste, and Amy noticed that detail. Khan felt their eyes on his back but ignored them. He wasn't trying to prove anything or show off. That was as simple as breathing to him.

Khan had to slow down to avoid bumping into Randall, and the latter showed a surprised expression when he turned and found him right behind him. Still, the teammates in the background wore similar faces, telling Randall he wasn't alone in that reaction.

"These," Randall uttered, quickly recovering and running his hand over the nearby boxes, "Are supplies. It's not tasty food, but your stomach won't complain."

Randall opened one of the boxes to show its contents. Pills, juices, and other kinds of food appeared in the open. Those supplies were meant to save space while maximizing nutrition, and Khan couldn't find anything wrong with them.

"The door?" Khan wondered, glancing at the passage behind the supplies.

"It's for weapons," Randall explained, moving some boxes aside to open the door. Another cargo area with a handful of metal containers became visible, and Randall didn't hesitate to lead Khan inside.

"All the containers are locked behind genetic signature," Randall revealed, pressing on one of the chests to open it. "Even if we abandon ship, the Scalqa won't get anything."

The chest opened, showing a series of guns orderly piled on next to cases of ammo. Khan counted twelve of them, and doubts inevitably surged into his mind.

"Why so many weapons?" Khan questioned, running his eyes over the remaining containers. Even if they had fewer weapons, they remained too many for a team of six.

"A lot can go south in these missions," Randall sighed. "Besides, we might be able to trade them with the Scalqa."

Exporting guns to earn points with a primitive species wasn't a common practice, but the Scalqa appeared quite battle-

oriented. They might appreciate superior weapons if the relationship with humankind ever allowed a proper demonstration of their firepower.

Khan glanced at the back of the area before closing the chest. He even checked whether his genetic signature worked before locking the container again. Randall noticed the gesture and offered reassuring words.

"These mags are under three different isolating layers," Randall stated, "In case you were worried-."

"I wasn't," Khan cut Randall short. That room was right ahead of the engines and tank, so the magazines containing mana could create dangerous interferences. Yet, Khan couldn't sense anything, which confirmed the perfect isolation and safety of the containers.

"What's next?" Khan asked to accelerate the procedure.

"Living quarters and main deck," Randall replied. "This way, Major."

The two made their way through the mess of boxes again to reach the other side of the ship. Amy and Celeste joined them at that time, leaving the two researchers behind.

The living quarters were narrow, which was the norm for those kinds of ships. The room past the cargo area had miniature flats consisting of encased beds and miniature bathrooms. The latter also worked as showers, saving as much space as possible.

Instead, the main deck was relatively spacious. Its entrance faced a vast interactive desk, and three seats stood before it. Two were for the pilot and co-pilot, while the last handled the ship's various scanners.

"The four of us have the pilot's license," Randall revealed, "So taking breaks won't be a problem. If you wish, sir, we can decide the turns now."

"Major," Amy called. "May I have the honor of being your co-

pilot?"

"The turns won't be necessary," Khan responded. "I'd rather start cataloging everything. I want to review each item on this ship."

"Of course," Randall nodded. "We'll all be present during the final briefing. It's mandatory. However-."

Khan stepped forward before Randall could finish his line. Yet, his gesture wasn't abrupt and had no additional meaning. Khan simply wanted to inspect the area.

"However," Randall continued when he understood that Khan was still listening to him, "I'm afraid you'll have to ask for additional authorization to pilot this ship, sir. Until then, we can alternate."

"You misunderstand," Khan declared without bothering to turn. "I'll be the only pilot."

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